


A Wave Shall Try to Drown Your Weary Soul

by Introvertedfangirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Human Disaster Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Like I promise the ending will have some kind of comfort, Mentioned Satine Kryze, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Break, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Obi-Wan will get his hug, Panic Attacks, Sad Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soft Anakin Skywalker, is this pre-slash hmm idk you tell me im not not winking, this man needs closure about Satine and I'm going to give it to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-25 18:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertedfangirl/pseuds/Introvertedfangirl
Summary: Obi-Wan needs closure on Satine that's all I have to say. ( or lmao idk maybe I need closure on Ob-Wan getting closure)They really made my man witness the death of the love of his life and gave him nothing. Cue me writing a fix-it kind of.Excerpt: Sometimes though on the nights when his body thrummed too much with the images of a Zabrak male force choking the woman he loved, plunging the searing blade of a lightsaber through her soft flesh, he sat staring at his window.It is then that he begged for the bittersweet release that tears might bring. They never come though. So instead, he shakes in darkness, his back pressed against the backwall of his bed, caught in a living nightmare.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the age of the Pandemic and after WandaVision the Clone Wars has become my obsession. I love Star Wars and hadn't really ever watched it before. So I gave it a spin so now of course I'm obsessed with the added characterization the show gives us for Obi-Wan and Anakin. Also I love Ashoka. Anyways here's this

In leaving Mandalore the first time, long ago when he had been so very young, he had made a decision. In that moment he had buried his heart, and taken a step with his brain, his thoughts before it for what seemed to be the first time in his life.

But it would be nowhere near or close to the last time that Obi-Wan Kenobi would move with his brain before his heart. It would become a habit for him. Something comfortable, firstly because it was what was expected, and secondly because eventually it became altogether too easy for the man to arrive straight to a conclusion without consulting his heart.

It allowed for him to skip the entire process of a sore heart. For with a sore heart comes a sore mind, and at the end of the day Obi- Wan would rather just deal with a tender, throbbing conscious than a bleeding, battered heart.

_But he had made a decision._

_He had made a decision_.

Far back into his youth, he had spent many of his formative years with one of the most dauntingly intelligent, and wonderfully beautiful girls he had ever known. A girl who even back then, when Obi Wan was caught within the throes of unseeing and often oblivious youth, the man had loved.

And she had loved him as well.

It was not often that Obi-Wan Kenobi questioned the Jedi code. But then again, he had never considered the thought that Satine would die within his lifetime, and well before her time; the woman who he was too tired to deny even to himself, he loved.

Loved quietly, achingly, and unendingly, for all these years. Now it was his fault that she was dead. His fault, his fault. A list of questions spun around his mind like a permanent holo-message. Glowing, it burned into his mind.

What might have happened if he had not left Mandalore so many years prior? Surely, though he would have deeply regretted disappointing his Master Qui-Gon Jinn, so many others would be much better off. starting with Satine and her people. Yes, it made a good amount of sense. If he had stayed with her Maul would never have met him, seen his face.

Would never have even known him.

With that last thought, a dull pounding pressed against the Jedi Master’s temple. It pained him that, he could not even try to begin to parse together what had happened to the Duchess without a headache.

Sighing the redhead bowed his head in his hands. What was he even trying to puzzle together though? Besides blaming himself, there was not much else to analyze. Satine was dead. Gone. And suddenly that realization was beginning to sink deep down into him. Past his mind, under the pale skin, into somewhere below the surface level. There it began to settle as a gnawing and acridly painful ache.

For all his hypotheticals and what ifs were beginning to take the shape of the last wave of grief that might drown him. It was a thought that made the man look far too old- beyond his years.

Ever since his return to the Jedi temple from Mandalore, he had not been able to find a way to release his emotions. Both Anakin and Ashoka had slid him worried glances, but he just could not bring himself to respond. Obi- Wan knew they only wanted to help him, to bear the weight with him. But even so, he did not think that he could accept their aid without fully breaking down. That is something that the older Jedi could not, no, will not bear.

Far away in the more logical reaches of his mind, untouched by grief, he knows that neither his former padawan or his grand-padawan would mind. Despite his occasional temper, Anakin has always been a deeply empathetic person. Compassion is a trait which ripples through that young man in abundance among other things, like loyalty, and kindness.

Obi- Wan has experienced the younger man’s selflessness, sometimes a tad too unthought out, on many occasions. Above all he has seen it in the way the other man cared for and trained his apprentice Ahsoka. The girl was a welcome addition to the duo that the two men had been before. Though he and Ashoka were still getting to know one another, Obi-Wan looked upon the Togruta as his padawan as well. She too would be understanding if her were to finally give in to the emotions roiling within him. The ones he barely understands.

He is simply not ready.

Instead, he turned to meditation, a thing which had always come easy to him. Now though, it seemed that under the soft nightlights of the bustling Coruscant night life, he turned to meditation more and more. What had once been the easy and often untroubled hours of true sleep had begun to slip off into a wispy grey of nothingness.

Obi-Wan was fading into that cloudy area of uncertainty too.

He still had not cried about Satine, and honestly, he did not know if he ever would. To cry is not necessarily a hallmark of one’s grief. He knew in his heart: for these days he was using it more to think with; that he grieved Satine with love and honor. Whether he cried or not, was not an indication of the validity of his grief.

Sometimes though on the nights when his body thrummed too much with the images of a Zabrak male force choking the woman he loved, plunging the searing blade of a lightsaber through her soft flesh, he sat staring at his window.

It is then that he begged for the bittersweet release that tears might bring. They never come though. So instead, he shakes in darkness, his back pressed against the backwall of his bed, caught in a living nightmare.

Always, he left the window to his room open now. For some reason he cannot bear to shut it and the soft breeze that often wafts in, caressing his too pale cheeks reminds him of another’s touch. Long ago.

He will not, cannot sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we see more of Anakin and Ashoka's reactions to Obi-Wan's grief.  
> Excerpt:  
> “He’s not—" Taking a deep breath and blowing it out quietly, he continued. “He’s not alright.”
> 
> It was only a few hours since Obi-Wan had returned, but it seemed like days that Anakin had been unsteadily treading a hole into the carpet of Ashoka’s quarters. Perched on the couch, her knees tucked under her arms, and her chin resting on her folded hands, she regarded her master. A wave of concern flowed over her as she peered through soft inquisitive eyes at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this from Ashoka's POV which not going to lie was a super interesting experience. The next chapter will be from either Anakin's point of view or it will be intermixed with Obi-Wan's.

“He’s not—" Taking a deep breath and blowing it out quietly, he continued. “He’s not alright.”

It was only a few hours since Obi-Wan had returned, but it seemed like days that Anakin had been unsteadily treading a hole into the carpet of Ashoka’s quarters. Perched on the couch, her knees tucked under her arms, and her chin resting on her folded hands, she regarded her master. A wave of concern flowed over her as she peered through soft inquisitive eyes at him.

When Obi-Wan had come back from Mandalore both the Padawan and her master had known something was wrong. It had been a quick moment, but a moment still, a ripple of grief so deep that Ashoka had actually trembled, her eyes watering slightly. Confused at first, she had wondered why she felt so, but looking at her master she suddenly understood that it wasn’t her. And if it wasn’t her there was only one other person besides Anakin who she felt such a close connection to in the Force that she would be able to sense them so well.

It must be her grand master Kenobi.

They hadn’t quite run from the training room, but they hadn’t quite walked either. Ashoka had practically had to jog to keep up with her master’s long strides. When Anakin had stopped short behind a great white pillar that arched skywards just before the landing strip, Ashoka had nearly crashed into his back. He held an arm out to stop his apprentice from continuing. Impatient, she had moved to go around him but then her movements ceased. Suddenly she understood his reasoning.

“Master—?”

The Togruta trailed of not really knowing how to finish. Never one to be at a loss for words Ashoka felt her tongue going dry in her mouth. Whether from shock or sadness she did not know.

Probably both.

On the landing strip a starship was grounded, it’s grey hull and sides were blackened by blaster marks. Walking down the metal gangway was Master Kenobi. Gods did he look awful.

Clearly, he was unaware that he had an audience.

His shoulders slumped over, and his face was caked in dark ash, as were his Jedi Tunic, which had been torn in several places.

But his face, his face. That was the worst part for Ashoka. The slight tremor through Anakin’s flesh arm, he appeared to have forgotten to remove from across her, was a telltale that she was not alone in that thought.

Though Ashoka did not know Obi-Wan, say as well as her own master, she had been delighted to become the third member of his and her master’s duo. Together they made a trio of chaotic good. Everyday she came to know the man better, and that is why it shocked her to see the man’s usually guarded expression so open.

The usually soft, stern but kind blue eyes were empty. He was haunted.

When he reached the end of the gangway, he bowed his head, and then came something that neither Ashoka nor Anakin expected. A sound, inhuman in nature tore through the air, a horrible scratching and desperate one.

It was only after that Ashoka realized it had come from her grand master.

Anakin’s arm had loosened from around her. Ashoka was too preoccupied to notice as she wiped a hand across her eyes which unbeknownst to her, had turned from watering to slow, silent, and rolling tears.

“Can’t we go to him Sky guy?”

A sigh. Then quietly.

“No, he would hate that”

“But”

“I know. It seems cruel.”

Ashoka faced her master now, a frustrated expression pulling the white lines of her face together. Anakin’s face was drawn, an almost unreadable expression on his face. His eyes looked sad though.

“I know Obi-Wan, he has to go to the Council first and report his mission. Stopping him now, will just make him angry. We won’t find out what’s wrong. If we want to help him it’ll have to be later.”

Reluctantly the master and his padawan journeyed back to Anakin’s quarters.

*******

Thoughtfully, Ashoka unfolded her legs from beneath her on the couch and leaned towards Anakin.

“What are we going to do about him then?”

At that Anakin’s brow unfurrowed slightly and the corners of his mouth upturned in a ghostly mirror of his normally bright smile.

“Whaat?”

“You said we.”

Shrugging, Ashoka stuck her tongue out at Anakin

“Well duh Sky guy.” Her eyes rolled dramatically.

It put her at ease to go back to this easy banter. Both were concerned about Obi-Wan, but it was good to be able to remember that they were in this together. They both cared for the older Jedi, and though Ashoka was new to the party, somehow, she already knew that she would give anything to ease his grief.

It was a sobering thought.

“Asking him, she paused grimacing slightly as she finished the thought, asking him won’t work will it?”

Her master was already shaking his head, and under her breath Ashoka muttered something about insufferable Jedi masters who deny help. Anakin chose to opt in for selective hearing at that moment.

“But that’s what I’m going to do. With a half hearted laugh the brunette rubbed his face. Force, maybe he’ll be so caught by surprise in my asking , that he’ll tell me what’s wrong. It’s late though Snips, and you should get to bed.”

With a barely audible groan of protest the Togruta slid of the couch. She wanted to stay and work more on the problem of her broken grandmaster. But her master’s quiet yet insistent tone, brokered no argument. With a wave she exited his quarter’s, and into her own.

Sleep would help, it had too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I hope you are enjoying this fic! Thank you for reading.💕💕. And yess I did this instead of homework ;).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin goes to Obi-Wan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl it low key broke me to write this chapter. Mayhaps I am self projecting through my comfort character ( Obi-Wan).

After Ashoka left Anakin had found it difficult to fall asleep, but eventually he fell to a kind of quiet yet disturbed sleep. With the curtains drawn against his quarter’s large bay window looking out onto Coruscant, the room was nearly pitch dark. Shapeless shadows still managed to be cast across his bed and the walls. The gap between where the sliding automatic door met the plush ark carpet allowed for the only sliver of light.

When he woke up suddenly, his mind was fuddled some. At first, he thought that it had been Ashoka who he had felt through the force, but then he realized that although the bond was close, it was not hers. No, it felt more like…

_Obi-Wan?_

Immediately the brunette pushed himself all the way up with that thought, his legs already swinging over the side of the bed. Taking a deep exhale Anakin attempted to open his mind, focus solely on the feeling that had just awoken him. It felt dark, roiling, shadowy. At the edges was something grey and blurred. More than anything it was squeezing Anakin’s heart in an uncomfortable and oppressive way. The kind of ache that doesn’t stay buried. Grief.

So, definitely Obi-Wan.

With barely a thought at all towards the decision Anakin sprung from the bed, his feet padded soundlessly on the carpet, slippers forgotten in the heat of the moment. Obi-Wan’s quarters weren’t that far away, and in the dimly lit hallway of the Jedi temple Anakin walked with a quiet purpose.

But when he got to the doors of his old Master’s apartments, he paused before pushing on the access button. In many ways he felt like the young padawan again, the one who was cold all the time, the one who had just been in many senses torn away from his mother. There were not many times in Anakin Skywalker’s life where he did not do something with purpose. Yet in this he felt uncertain.

_Just do it_

He pressed the button on the panel.

Stepping into Obi-Wan’s quarters the feeling that had threatened to wash over Anakin before now seemed to almost be drowning him. Lest he scare the other man, Anakin began to call out quietly.

“Obi- Wan, Master, O—"

He broke off for the man in question had appeared from behind the door to his bedroom. His usually well-kept red hair was a mess. But his beard was shaved and gods he looked younger than Anakin might have ever seen him. Wait that wasn’t right. He looked almost as he had when Anakin had first met him.

Feeling awkward now at having simply come into the older Jedi’s living space, Anakin fiddled with his fingers. Clearly Obi-Wan was not going to be the one who would initiate the conversation.

“H-how are you Obi-Wan?”

The question was innocent enough thought Anakin. However, Obi-Wan ignored it completely.

A sigh. He sounded exhausted.

“Why are you here Anakin?”

_Hmm, guess this wasn’t going to be as easy as he wanted, not that what he wanted mattered much right now._

Taking the direct track, Anakin stepped closer to his Master. To his surprise and worry, the red head flinched. It had been so light anyone might have missed it. Anakin wasn’t anyone though.

“I felt you through the force, Ashoka felt you too “ he added, hoping that the mention of their padawan might soften up the man to Anakin’s inquiries. Then hesitating slightly he continued.

“We saw you Obi-Wan.”

At this, the redhead’s face furrowed slightly as if trying to concentrate on that last phrase of Anakin’s. Then his mouth opened slightly, his lips trembled. He pressed them together to form a tight line.

“Then you know.”

Anakin cringed inwardly at his former Master’s voice. It was grainy with disuse, and notes of exhaustion slipped beneath it.

Suddenly Anakin wondered if he’d been sleeping. Glancing to the worn and haggard face with dark lines around the eyes, he didn’t think he had to wonder. Then a familiar feeling began to bubble beneath the young man’s skin. Anger. He knew it was unfair, but it was there none the less. That burning feeling was there because of what he saw as Obi-Wan being hurt, and the fact that he would not let anyone else in on it. Trying not to sound exasperated Anakin peered earnestly at the other man.

“Know what Master?”

At Anakin’s genuine confusion Obi-Wan’s face became an unreadable mask.

“It’s nothing.” The older Jedi said it with little conviction though. By the way his mouth was still trembling Anakin knew that it was not nothing.

“But it’s not Obi-Wan! I feel you even now, Force, but I know you’re in pain. You are drowning Master. All I and Ashoka want to do is offer you a lifeline.”

Then in an unfortunately characteristic and hotheaded move that he would regret in seconds he huffed out.

“Why must you never allow yourself to feel anything? The Jedi preach that pain leads to fear and fear to anger, but you must know that it would be better to let whatever this is out. _Try_ to think with your heart instead of your mind. You cannot act like a droid all the time!”

All those words had been too much but the last had been the worse. As soon as they had finished spilling from Anakin’s lips, he felt nauseous. Obi-Wan did not even bother to hide the hurt which flashed across his face. It stayed frozen there.

His voice was steely though when it finally came out.

“You should leave Anakin.” Then finally, he closed his eyes and let out a breath,   
“please,” he added in such a tone that Anakin felt as if he had struck one of the younglings. It was so vulnerable and desperate. He turned round to leave, but was stopped, surprised to hear Obi-Wan speak again.

“And you are wrong Anakin. It isn’t that I do not allow myself to feel, it is that I feel too much and everything at once. All the time.”

A shaky breath.

“It is _double_ the effort to hide that. We cannot all wear our emotions on our sleeve.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind Anakin understood that that last line was a barb at him, but he couldn’t even be offended. He turned away like a shamed child. An apology was on the tip of his tongue but Obi-Wan had already disappeared into his bedroom. The door closed with a silent rush of air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ughh finallly Obi-Wan gets some comfort and of course I am left with nothing except I guess hunting down some other good hurt/comfort Clone Wars fics. PLeaaase im so damged lmao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue would not format right. So I said f*ck it and am posting this last chapter anyway. Gosh I need to go to sleep lmao. Hopefully you all enjoy!!

Anakin had wondered down the hallway a distance away from Obi-Wan’s room. He could not quite bring himself to return to his room, but he was not sure if he wanted, could, return to Obi-Wans either.

He had hurt him; he had hurt him.

He had done so when the man was already so clearly hurting anyway.

_Curse me and my unruly impetuous tongue._

Why could he never think before opening his mouth. Sinking, down to the ground he crossed his legs underneath him. His sleeping tunic was light weight and it brushed against him comfortingly.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that, but it couldn’t have been that long. Suddenly a pair of orange legs stood before him. Letting a breath out he glanced upwards. His padawan had a sleepy look about her eyes . her face looked terribly young when she didn’t have all the worries of an ongoing war pressing on her shoulders. At least at that moment.

“Snips I thought I told you to get to bed.”

“You’re not in bed Master.” She offered a soft smile.

He was hesitant to tell his apprentice what had happened, the shame of it washing over him once more, but he knew he must. Finishing the story, he hated to look at Ashoka, afraid of what he might see there. Disappointment.

A moment of silence passed. Then.

“Master, you shouldn’t have.” A hand lightly dropped to his shoulder. “But I already know you know that. We both I think, become carried away with our emotions. Sometimes that means we hurt the people closest to us. That doesn’t mean we stop trying to help them though.”

Ruefully, Anakin ran a hand through his loose brown waves. “When you did you become so wise.”

Shrugging her shoulders Ashoka just smiled, then offered a hand to help him up.

“Know where were going?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Side by side they both stood at Obi-Wan’s door. This time Ashoka clicked the button, and the door slid open with a cool hiss. Th first thing Anakin noticed was the door leading into Obi-Wan’s room was not closed completely. He stepped forwards but Ashoka moved backwards. He turned to his apprentice, she was trembling, and her eyes were watering but she offered him a shaky smile.   
  
  


“I’m fine Master, it’s, it’s Master Kenobi. I can feel all the pain, it’s heavy in here. I think you should go in first he’d be more comfortable.”

Though worried about his padawan he knew that it was Obi-Wan who needed him now. When he passed by Obi-Wan’s door and into the bedroom his eyes had to adjust to the lighting, or rather the lack of lighting. He could just make out the shape of Obi-Wan. He was sitting on the bed, staring out the window.

_He hasn’t noticed me yet._

But he had.

“She’s dead Anakin.”

The former padawan’s stomach began to curl in uneasiness. There was no name. And yet…

“Satine is dead.”

In several long strides Anakin was across the room, standing just at his former master’s side. There was an uncertainty in his air. He knew what should be done but was not sure if it was what Obi-Wan needed.

After how badly he had messed up before all that mattered right now is that he stayed focused on what the other man wanted. So instead of touching him he went for something Obi-Wan would understand.

“How?”

Obi-Wan turned to him a look of almost surprise on his face, and strangely relief. And Anakin suddenly realized that he hadn’t talked to anyone about this. Moving away, Obi-Wan moved to stare at the window again, rubbing his unshaved face absentmindedly as he did so.

“It was Maul.”

A breath.

“He, he— He killed her right in front of me. The blade, it cut through Satine just like one of the training dummy’s when a youngling makes a mistake. But.”

He paused and Anakin wanted so badly to offer him some kind of comfort, but he had no idea what to say so he let him continue.

“It wasn’t a mistake, it was purposeful, cruel. “

Anakin hadn’t been paying close attention to his former Master’s breathing. Now he was becoming rapidly aware of the fact that his chest had begun to rise up and down at an alarming rate.

“She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead.” He was rocking back and forth

Then a variation of that same awful sound he and Ashoka had heard on the Temple’s landing strip erupted from his throat. Except this time, it was broken, a whimper really.

“I can’t, I can’t. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe Anakin.”

In a swift movement, Anakin was now seated by Obi-Wan’s side. Cautiously, he placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s back. Once in his childhood Anakin had become panicked just like this, and though he wasn’t sure if it would work, he would try what had worked then.

His hand pressed to Obi-Wan’s back, just enough that he could feel it but light enough that he could remove it immediately if it made things worse.

“I’m here, I’m here. I have you.” His flesh hand slid up and down his friend’s back. Shh shh. I’m here with you. Slow breaths. I know…I know it hurts Master”  
  


***  
  


With the continued pressure of Anakin’s hand rubbing against his back, along with steady assurances murmured in a soft tone marked by a deep tenderness, Obi-Wan felt the breath slowly but surely returning to his lungs.

He had felt tired before, now he felt boneless.

Tired of keeping up the pretense of never needing anyone, he turned to drop his head onto his former padawan’s shoulder.

For the first time since Satine, he felt a pressure behind his eyes, and a wet sound escaped his mouth before he could put it back.

He could hold it in, he could. Anakin shouldn’t have to see him like that.

So, with his head on his padawan’s shoulder, he fought a quiet but tense battle.

_One against himself._

Against that last wave of grief, that threatened to overtake him.

Anakin it seemed was not here for that though. Gently dislodging himself, he moved to stand. Obi-Wan found himself half relieved that he would not see him cry half despondent that his only comfort would leave him so soon. Then, and not for the first time in their relationship Anakin chose to surprise. Yes, he stood but only to shift back onto the bed so that he was now seated behind Obi-Wan.

Two strong arms surrounded Obi-Wan now and they came to rest loosely against his chest.

“Anakin—”

“I have you.”

“So, you’ve said.”

“Understand...that I have you. Will _always_ have you." Anakin whispered it quietly, all the while pressing a warm gentle kiss to Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

It was almost impossible to hold in the tears now, the effort nauseating. The last straw was Anakin bending his head to gently press his face to the crook of Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“No one is here but me and you Master, and well Ashoka, but she’s in the other room, and honestly, I don’t think she’d care if you cried. Yes, I know you care, but I want you to stop caring. Let me think for you, at least for right now. What I _think_ is that you should and need to cry.”

Tears rolled finally down Obi-Wan’s cheeks and through it all Anakin held him, his grip never faltering. His face pressed close to Obi-Wan's as he murmured sweet nothings to him, rocking him in his arms.

“Shhh. I know…I know…shhh”

Somewhere during that time another pair of hands came to rest around him, and he would realize that it was Ashoka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you want a second chapter. Thanks so much for reading comments and kudos appreciated!😊❤. Also this is my first Star Wars fic so please be nice. I low key struggled to grasp Obi-Wan's characterization so I really hope it isn't too off. but if it is let me know please!


End file.
